a rambling train of thought???

And now they are making me write instructions on how to take an amazing shower and how to live a happy life and how to fall in love and how survive high school and come to think of it I'm not really sure if anyone does. Not their hearts anyways. I have ditched class more times this term than I have in junior and sophomore year combined. I have also cried a lot less and I wonder if that is a coincidence. I am thankful we only have two days of school this week because I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. They say you can't think your way out of depression but who are they to tell me what I can and can't do? Who are they do think I have depression in the first place. Who am I to think I have depression. I don't hurt myself like my neighbor does. But she goes to concerts all the time and skateboards down mountains. Maybe she isn't depressed, maybe she is just crazy. Maybe she is just crazy and I am just depressed. Or maybe we are both crazy. Sometimes I pretend I have plans just so I can leave the house and take a drive up to the mountains. In church they made us write down goals we wanted to accomplish during the school year and I wrote down stop procrastinating and raise your hand in class more and the kid next to me said clean my room more. CLEAN MY ROOM MORE. I wonder what he thinks about sometimes. And I wonder if life is ever really that easy. where all you have to worry about is the cleanliness of your room. I am pretty sure I have notebooks and candy wrappers from 8th grade still stashed in my room. are you guys still reading this because I am pretty sure it is garbage but that is all part of the creative process apparently so write on bros. I will probably delete this and write something better, this is just in case I pass out in the shower again. My mom turned on the AC and its thirty degrees outside and I am asking for a space heater for Christmas in hopes she will get the hint. She wont. None of this stuff makes sense and I really wanted to write a post about love but I think I'm all loved out. This happens every winter and I can't figure out if its because this is the season I crave love the most and it just makes me cold and bitter. All I know is there is a boy out there who hates talking in class and hates his parents and hates the car he drives and I love him.

something bitter

HOW TO NEVER HAVE A DATE TO PROM:

Step 1: be yourself

(sorry)

I am the one you should be afraid of.
Because all the people I love are the people I barely know
and the people I hate, I've known for years
and the worst part is that I used to love all of them.
Disappointment is a butt-head and so am I.
I think when it comes to knowing people sometimes ignorance is bliss
and I know I am horrible for saying that and for disliking people after getting to know them better
and you can hate me for it because I am that judgmental person you are afraid of.
the one who expects too much from people and cuts them out after the first strike of disappointment because
once I'm done,
I am done.
And you can hate me for that I don't care.
Because I am too busy hating myself for it too.

Life is hard. And I'm sorry 

{sasha fierce}

so uncool it's cool.

High school is this place where you get to meet all these new people. But high school is also this place where it stops you from meeting all these people because maybe they don't wear the right clothes or speak up in class or in general or aren't ranked as high as you are on the social food chain. Maybe this is only making sense to me but there are so many people I have gotten to know this year that I had never even seen before and it is incredible how many underrated people there are at this school. Its incredible how many overrated people there are too. But I think underrated people are my favorite people, because they are so cool and they are so oblivious to it that they don't get a big head and you don't wake up one day and suddenly they are "too cool" for you. You can trust underrated people. And they are almost like your secret cool people and suddenly high school is okay, because you don't compare yourself to all these cool people with their cool friends anymore. Because you've got all your secret cool friends and you feel sorry for all the cool kids because the don't even know what they are missing out on.
And then you graduate.
And then you have to leave your best friend from sixth grade.
And then you go from seeing her almost every single day to maybe once or twice a month on Skype.
And then you promise to write.
And then you don't.
And then  it's seven in the morning and you're 30 years old, making yourself a smoothie before you go to work at the office and your suddenly remember that one time you ditched school and went to Wendy's and they gave you a free burger, or that one time you went to a party in the woods, or that other time when you tried being a vegetarian and didn't even last a full day.
And then you call in sick for work and spend the rest of the day laying on your couch wondering why you were so worried about grades and why you didn't cause more trouble and why you didn't talk to that cute boy sitting across from you.
And then you remember your 30 and this is your life now, and adults don't go to parties in the woods or worry about grades.
And then you wish you had done more in high school. Wish you had talked to more in class and tried more things and worried less and smiled more.
But mostly you wish you had stayed in touch with all those people who used to make you feel so alive.

High school is this place where you get to meet all these new people.
High school is this place where by the time you get to know all of them, you have to leave.

{{sasha fierce}}

liar

Mother says "the dog knocked her over"

But her neighbor ran over to find

a little girl's eyes rolling back in her head

and no visible dog

{{sasha fierce}}

anatomy of my brain

I think I have senioritis. 

But I also think I have depression sooooo

To be honest I am hitting enter so it looks 

like I am writing more than I actually am.

Yeah I am pretty sure I have senioritis.

But I am pretty sure I don't have depression.

I get sad for no reason sometimes

But I get happy for no reason too??

I think I might be indecisive.

I think I have a 5 page paper due tomorrow.

I think I might be sick for second period.

I think if my mom says one more thing about Snow college I will run away.

I think I'm going to graduate.

I think this is how you spell senioritis???

I think it's time for bed.

I think PDA is gross

I think babies are cute

I think puppies are cute

I think you're cute.

I think I like you.

I think that's weird because we have never actually spoken.

I don't think I care.



{sasha fierce}






She says she has schizophrenia.
But they told her it's all in her head.

possibility

{{what I hope my future looks like}}

{sasha fierce}

I feel ya

I've never been one for breaking fine china. But this morning while putting the dishes away my dad started to "criticize" the fact that I never seem to wash them right, despite the fact that he has never washed a plate in his life. So to people who smash plates, I get it.

I have never gone over 90 mph while driving the car. But last week I failed yet another math test and ended up driving through the canyon after school for around two hours. So to the people in NASCAR, I get it.

Last night I fell asleep on my neighbors trampoline while looking at the stars. So to the astronauts, I get it.

I've sat here for 17 years waiting, hoping, to finally catch something worth keeping. So to the fishermen, I get it.

I have stubbed each of my toes at least twice in my lifetime. So to the people who curse, I get it.

Whenever I get angry and want to scream I lock myself in my room and slam my fists against everything and anything. So to the drummers out there, I get it.

I see so many people around me believing in one thing, but then living a completely different way. So to the kids who don't want to go to BYU, I get it.

My dad doesn't let me do outdoor chores like rake leaves and shovel snow. So to the feminists, I get it.

I constantly feel like my voice is annoying everyone. So to all the other shy people, I get it.

I am learning to let go of pieces of myself and strip away all the bad memories and bad people. So to the sculptors, I get it.

I saw him again yesterday. So to people who write love poems,

I get it.

~sasha fierce~

Me, Myself and I

Me.
I'm on my mind and I know that probably sounds horrible but I can't stop thinking about me.
Okay yeah that definitely sounds horrible. But I can't stop think of all the different pieces of myself that people see.

There was this dumb thing I did when I was little where I would pull out a strand of hair every place I went thinking that in 50 years scientist would examine the disaster zone and say "she was here" Thinking that with a strand of hair I would be able to prove to my grandchildren that I was there when the floods came and I was still there when they left or when my neighbor's house caught on fire and he couldn't save his goldfish, or that I was at an aquarium on 9/11 Maybe that is the reason I am the way I am now. A girl with thin hair and a scattered personality

Instead of strands of hair I now leave parts of myself with others. I have left my brain with this blog, my smile with my friends, my tears with God, and my heart I have kept for myself. Sometimes I wonder if funerals are like everyone putting the final pieces of that person's puzzle together. I wonder if you are only truly understood after you have gone, when everyone else hears about how you cried while watching Star Wars that one time, or when they learn about your weird obsession with listening to different people's voices and the fact that you ate Cheetos everyday for a year when you were seven. 

It's weird to think about what your funeral would be like, but I know everyone does it so I guess it's not actually that weird. I think I would want a lot of crying at my funeral. Mostly because I have cried at so many and it's someone else's turn to cry for once. But I picture everyone bringing the little pieces of me that they kept and showing them to each other. And eventually, after everyone's done putting all my pieces together. They'll all be like "ohhhhhh I get it" as if I was some sort of math equation or something. Maybe we are only whole after we die. And maybe that's the way its supposed to be. Maybe the purpose of life isn't to be old and wise and have everything figured out.
Maybe the purpose of life is to figure somebody else out before it's too late.

~sasha fierce~